


Bleeding Flowers

by orphan_account



Series: What You Don't Know [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blood and Torture, Does this make sense?, Gen, Intense screaming, Paranoia, Slightly Out of Charcter, Stabbing, Strangulation, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Morty never thought he would "accept" his death until the day he saw those beautiful, red, blood flowers Rick ever so wanted.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith
Series: What You Don't Know [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853563
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Bleeding Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Readers discretion is advised.

This was it.

His mouth fell down in violent surprise; something had pierced right through his lower abdomen. He couldn't say it really hurt at first but the pain suddenly slammed at him like a washing tide. Then, as he finally decided to look down, blood was leaking from what appeared to be a short glowing arrow, and, suddenly, all his limps had immediately failed him. When he tried to get up, however, the pain intensified to the point where he screamed for help.

He needed help.

He needed to get out of clear sight but his legs refused to move and no one was here to help him. He then realized this wasn't a normal adventure, it never was one. How could he be so stupid and lose sight of Rick? Why did he always have to rely on him, the man who brought him here? Oh, he knew why: he hated being alone. The blandness of the same four walls of his room taunted him every second. He hated the screaming--the horror of his own life.

Maybe--just maybe--this was his own fault, that he didn't need to blame Rick and everything would return to normal.

He wouldn't be alone.

He would be with Rick on their crazy adventures for one hundred years, just as they both promised.

_He would not be alone._

As he looked to his side, an idea lit up. There were tons of thick sticks around him and they seemed capable enough to handle his weight. The only question remaining was if he able to pull his own weight? No, he never worked out even if he was a thin boy. If anything, his arm strength was laughable.

_No_ , he thought. _No time to think._

The boy grabbed the thickest stick near him and stabbed it into the ground, screaming as the pain seemed to have stabbed him instead. With all the strength he could muster, he cried and pulled himself forward. It hurt, every part of his body hurt, and he was sure that he lost all feeling of his legs by now, but he ignored it and continued. His shirt was beginning to feel very soaked and sticky, probably because of his wound. Every time he moved forward, his movements tampered the position of the arrow and made it slide in deeper.

He stopped at one point, coughing blood and crying his eyes out. The arrow was already too deep inside him and jabbed at his very sensitive insides, but that didn't stop him. It was a bad idea to even move an inch so he wouldn't bleed out but someone--something--had shot him down, probably on their way to finish their kill or eat him. He needed to find Rick who was somewhere not giving a single care in the world about him right now.

And then, "Rick--!"

Another arrow had been shot at his back except it was much more powerful and had cut through his flesh almost entirely. His scream pierced through the thick air, loudly enough to scare the flying creatures away--surely enough for Rick to have heard. Blood gushed out from the open wound, spreading quickly. The boy felt so exhausted and slowly began to stop moving. His head was feeling heavy and irritated, and he was sure that feeling sleepy wasn't okay.

He was murmuring something incoherent, probably calling for Rick but he wasn't sure a second later. At that point, the pain was slowly feeling "normal" but for some reason his breath was getting rapid and annoyingly shallow. The feeling of his right arm went away, too, though, it was probably because he just needed some sleep.

_Yes, some sleep_ , he thought and slowly closed his eyes. _Just until Rick finds me._

But, a moment later, he could hear heavy footsteps and his eyes snapped open.

"R-Rick?"

No.

All the sleepiness disappeared as he saw a large green, hairy creature was walking toward him with the most scariest expression of anger plastered onto its face. It was definitely the one who had arrowed him, seeing as it had the bow in its hand and the quiver wrapped around its body. It was the threat but what could he do, for he was on the ground bleeding out as badly as one could. He couldn’t even feel half of his limbs—and Rick was nowhere in sight! 

  
  
Oh, this was it.

He cried and plead in murmurs but the alien had not been fazed; it did not avert its eyes in pity, nor did it consider slowing down. He didn't know what to do other than scream for help--what could he even do with the huge amount of blood he's lost and the lack of feeling in his body? No one was going to save him.

_No one_.

The creature lifted the bow and, suddenly, quicker than the blink of an eye, three arrows cut through his back again with one of them dangerously close to his first wound. He screamed, lifting his only hand and gripping his hair until he felt locks of his hair fall out. He was in his own body of blood now, still unable to move, still screaming until his throat started to feel just as painful as his wounds.

The tall creature was already in front of him, looking down for a brief moment before digging its claws into his sides and turning him on his back. He screeched in agony as the arrows sunk into his back, too, but he soon forgot about that, for he was face-to-face with the creature that just stood motionless.

He stopped sobbing for a second, staring into the deep soul of the creature. In that moment, he thought maybe--just maybe--his life would be saved.

_No_ , the boy's eyes widened. _No, no, no_ \--

The creature planted itself on the brunette, having no consideration of its huge size compared to the human. The boy gasped, eyes rolling back as all the air was knocked out of him. Blood was leaking faster than before due to the pressure of the crushing weight so at this point why hadn't he died yet? Why was he still struggling, bleeding out? The only answer would be the arrows, or something Rick might've done to his body--

"ARGH!"

His eyes darted toward his stomach again, seeing as the creature stabbed him with a longer arrow. He looked up and pleaded tearfully again but his throat was so sore that hardly anything was coming out. And for some reason, that might've angered the creature, as he yanked it out and stabbed him in the same spot once again.

Although his throat was extremely sore, he screamed once more, again angering the creature as he repeated the action. They were not helping each other, at all; the brunette screamed again and again and the creature followed with angry stabs to his stomach until it wasn't having it anymore.

It released the arrow and wrapped its humanoid hands around his neck, squeezing and digging its nails into the frail skin. Using what was most likely the last of his voice, he screamed at the top of his lungs. He tried to move its hands but with one working arm it was useless.

His vision was getting more blurry by the second. He couldn't breathe or even make a sound anymore at that point, and his eyes felt like they were going to pop out any second.

As all life was being squeezed out of his small body, he took one look behind the creature with shocked eyes. There were bright red flowers, the exact ones Rick mentioned when they arrived--the thing that led him to his death bed.

_"B-blood flowers?"_

_Rick nodded, pulling out something completely unrelated and pouring it into a cup._

_"I don't get it, it sounds a bit--"_

_"Weird? It's because it's exactly how it sounds, MoUGHrty. I-it sucks your blood."_

_"W-what--w-wait a minute Rick--"_

_Rick stopped whatever it was that he was doing and turned around, startling the younger. He was staring intently at him with those icy blue eyes, saying something he was unable to understand._

_"They are immortally exquisite, Morty. T-they glint under light as if they're the only thing worthy of existing! T-they give you those shivers, saying 'back off' b-but why would you do that? They are the world, MoUGHrty! Why wouldn't you want them, the world in your hands taking nothing but your blood?" He said, not even blinking once._

_What he said sounded a bit out of_ _character and confusing enough to scare the brunette. And he couldn't move for some reason, somehow drawn into Rick's play, but why?_

_"I--Rick, why do you want them?"_

_Rick finally looked away, returning to his old bored expression._

_"In exchange for your blood, M-Morty, it reluctantly gives you bliss."_

_"A-are you--drugs? Y-you want drugs, R-Rick?"_

_Rick rolled his eyes and turned back around; "No, y-you stupid fuck. It just makes you a bit happy."_

_Happy?_

_Oh_ , _happy._

_Was Rick not happy with their adventures?_

Morty tried to look at the flowers for a bit longer but his tears and whatever other liquid--he assumed blood--were clouding his eyes. The light was fading and so were those beautiful flowers. He was going to die in a few seconds so there was no need to resist or cry for help. Rick was somewhere looking for those flowers; it was funny that he found them first at the peak of his death.

It was actually ironic.

As his vision began to slowly fade, he can only think of one thing--a person. He was the same person who brought him here, the same person who showed him the universe. He wondered if he hadn't been arrowed, where would he be now? Probably with Rick; it all started and ended with him, after all. He wondered what expression scientist would've made if he was the one to bring him those flowers instead?

Would he have still been alone, then?

Ah, it was too late for that now.

It was all over.

...Right?

He could hear something-- _someone_ \--screaming in the distance. The voice sounded very familiar, a rather hoarse, pained voice screaming as if they direly needed whatever it was they were screaming.

"MORTY!"

_Ah, who is that?_

_Is that my name?_

Just before his eyes fell, Morty saw a blurry, tall figure running toward him.

_Rick._

And then he closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is very bad, I apologize. I guess you can say I'm practicing. Is this good practice? :>


End file.
